Dream's Deadly Allure
by Tiannstnocfm
Summary: After Legolas makes a tragic mistake, he is overcome with guilt and confusion. He makes a decision that seems right... But he has caused something awful to happen to his two best friends who were only trying to help.
1. Default Chapter

**DREAM'S DEADLY ALLURE **by _**Shadowfaxgal** _

_This is a sequel to Sacrificed Hope, but you don't have to read it to understand this. There is no slash, just brotherly and friendship love. It is A/U because, as many young Aragorn stories, there is no Gilraen._

_Constructive criticism, comments, and suggestions are extremely welcome. Flames are not. If you don't like angst stories, why in the world are you in the angst genre section? And if you are upset that you wasted your time on (in your opinion) a poor story, why waste even more time by flaming it? But if you want to tell me something that you think would help me improve my writing, that'd be _great_. The main reason I'm on this site is to become a better author. Feel free to point out any typos, but don't hold it against me, please. Everyone makes mistakes once in a while. Hope you enjoy. __Peace and Love._

* * *

Legolas stared intently into the flickering flames of the dying campfire. The orange and yellow colors swirled around erratically, the embers beneath the log glowing brightly. A pleasantly cool autumn wind tossed errant strands of blonde hair into his face as he watched the fire's light fade in the breeze. He continued staring, never blinking. 

"Legolas?" A soft, tired voice murmured.

The prince turned abruptly to face the human boy. Estel was laying comfortably on his bedroll a few yards away, his dark hair already tousled from the few hours of sleep he'd had. His wide, blue-grey eyes regarded the prince slowly, showing interest and confusion. His slightly tan yet fair and childlike face still held the dirt smudges from his wrestling with the twins that evening.

"Yes, Estel?" he responded calmly.

The boy yawned and ran his hand through his wavy hair, uselessly trying to get the tresses out of his eyes. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I am just keeping watch." Legolas told him simply. His eyes drifted over to the logs. The fire was gone.

Estel took no notice of his friend's wandering gaze. "Why? This is a safe area, isn't it?"

"Yes, but one can never be sure." The elf dismissed, looking back at him. "These years, orcs have been known to go beyond their previously believed range. It's never wise to have everyone asleep in the dead of night, especially with how far away we are from a town."

"Oh." The child mumbled only half-coherently. Yawning again, he rested his head back down against his crossed arms. "Goodnight, anyway." His eyelids fluttered and drooped as he once again fell into peaceful dreaming.

The prince watched the boy for a moment, his even breathing and occasional inaudible mumbling. Then his gaze lifted and he looked around the campsite, which was really only an imprecise area, as the ground he sat upon did not change for many miles, barren land as far as the eyes could see. There were few trees around, something Legolas disliked greatly. He dearly anticipated the following morning, when they could continue south towards the rivers.

Two forms lay on the other side of the campfire, long dark hair covering most of their faces. Legolas noticed Elrohir's arm sprawled out, palm up. He could just faintly see the scars where the flesh had been so mutilated half a decade ago. Being a Firstborn, they would eventually disappear, but not from memory.

Legolas sighed slowly, absently fingering the corner of his bedroll and taking deep breaths.

_It is over._

_Let it go._

He closed his eyes momentarily as he lay down, opening them again to stare up at the stars that beautifully adorned the night sky. In the distance, he could ever so slightly make out the sound of water lapping against a riverbed. Insects chirped softly, skittering about the ground, and nocturnal birds called out to each other from somewhere far away.

He couldn't fall asleep.

He felt so tense and worried. Anxious, his heart pounded faster whenever he thought about whom he was with and where they were. While he tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid, it didn't help.

Five years ago, Legolas went through some of the hardest months in his life. While the twins had been healed, it would be a long time before they'd be as healthy as they had been before. And while Estel assured the prince that he forgave him for all the mistakes and the trauma that had been caused, Legolas had his doubts. He found it impossible to believe that the boy could just forget everything that happened. He felt awkward around the human, afraid that he'd somehow cause him more pain. He was constantly frightened of doing something wrong. While he didn't show it, he was often frantically afraid of being a failure as a friend. Something that had once been so easy and brought him great joy was now like an impossible job. Even around Elladan and Elrohir, his best friends for many years, he felt like they harbored ill feelings towards him. When the Peredhils rode back to Rivendell, Legolas stayed in Mirkwood.

After over four years, a messenger came for Legolas. The prince was greatly urged to come to Imladris to celebrate the thirteenth anniversary of Estel's birth day. While he was nervous, the prince decided to come, bringing a beautiful Mirkwood bow and quiver of arrows as gifts. He found himself quite surprised at how much the boy had changed. He was much stronger, and had clearly been working on archery and swordsmanship daily. His curly mop of hair was straighter, easier to keep in the delicate braids like the Firstborn. Much taller now, though not enough to measure up to elves, he held the air of an older, more serious and wise person. But he didn't act like one. His eyes shone even brighter, if that was possible, and he had grown so much more like his brothers. He knew many more pranks, he had the twins' mischievous cleverness.

And he was so kind; _so_ friendly. Legolas suddenly felt like the four of them had been friends forever and that nothing had ever come between them. When he woke up in the horse barn in the middle of the night and found the door to his room locked securely, he had never felt so relieved (much to the brothers' disappointment, as their prank didn't have their desired affect of annoying the sometimes overly-serious prince). Everything seemed right.

But after a couple of months, Estel wanted to leave. It was hot, summertime, and he suggested that they go to a river the twins had told him about. Elladan and Elrohir, bothered at how long they had stayed at home to heal, instantly agreed with him. And Legolas found himself petrified. Something felt very wrong. When Elrond reluctantly agreed, (with many rules for them to follow and a lot of medical aids he insisted they bring), Legolas suddenly had nightmares. He didn't want to go.

But he couldn't bring himself to stop the brothers from going, as it really seemed like just an irrational fear. He went with them and pretended that nothing was wrong. And for the past couple of days, everything did seem fine. They had crossed the Old South Road and were somewhere near Enedwaith.

As Legolas drifted to sleep again, he would have another nightmare, the worst yet.

* * *

Estel awoke to a soft noise nearby and blinked tiredly, sitting up and stretching his arms. Elladan was kneeling next to their sacks and smiled brightly when he saw him awake. 

"Good morning, little one." He greeted happily. He handed the boy a piece of lembas, knowing how much human children ate.

"Thank you," Estel took it gratefully and was just about to ask why the older twin was up so early when Elrohir stirred nearby.

Estel stared as Elladan tried not to snicker. As the younger twin woke up and raised his head, he was suddenly was jerked back. Wide awake, he began to curse as he found his hair tied to a root in the ground.

Elrohir grabbed a nearby rock and chucked it at his twin before painfully untying his braids from the ground. Elladan almost fell over laughing.

Estel giggled in amusement as he ate his breakfast, taking a long sip from his water flask before looking over to where Legolas was still sleeping. He walked over to his friend and sat down, gently shaking his shoulders.

"Legolas," he beckoned. "Legolas, wake up. The sun is rising, we'll be leaving soon." He was sure that the prince would find Elladan's prank amusing.

The elf mumbled something as his eyes unclouded, looking up at the child for a moment of bewilderment before remembering where they were.

"Are you alright?" the mortal asked. The prince's eyes seemed wild and frightened. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"No," Legolas assured quickly, sitting up. "I am fine." He saw the twins wrestling nearby and smiled, deciding to not even ask.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when they reached the particular river that the twins had read about many years ago and once told Estel about in a story. They had decided to ride to now it because it was relatively unheard of and in a desolate area, so it would be relaxing and safe. It was supposed to be a very deep stream, stretching for many miles. 

Perhaps it had been deep, many years ago. Now, however, it was much less than they had expected.

Elrohir glanced uncomfortably at Estel. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly. "I guess it is not quite what you expected, huh?"

Estel was staring at the canyon. "Not really," he admitted. He looked over the edge. "We can't even go swimming, can we?"

Elladan shook his head. "It looks like what's left of it is only a couple feet deep. And it must be more than a hundred foot climb down."

Legolas shifted on his horse, dearly wanting to step away from the edge. Something felt awfully wrong there. It was so far down, a dry and crumbling canyon with a thin little stream going down the center and a wide, hardened dirt bank.

"Let's go to the river we passed this morning." He suggested. "It was small, but certainly deeper than this."

The younger twin looked at him incredulously. "Of course not, Legolas!" he laughed. "It is just a river, certainly not the only reason we left Rivendell. Perhaps it is the only reason that we told our Ada," he grinned. "We told him that we just wanted a little ride and a little swim… But it is going to be much more than that, Legolas. We have barely started."

"Where is your sense of adventure?" Elladan added cheerfully. "We haven't had any fun yet!"

Estel smiled and nodded eagerly. "Yes, let's go!" He patted Hyalma's neck affectionately and beamed.

Any disappointment of the river disappeared as the brothers turned their horses southward. Legolas fumbled for his horse's mane and urged it to follow the others, a horrid feeling of foreboding still coming from the cliff side.

After only ten minutes or so of riding, Elladan glanced over his shoulder at the prince. "Are you alright?" he asked. "You've seemed so distant these days, Legolas."

Sighing, the blonde elf shook his head. "I'm fine," he repeated, noticing how unsure he sounded. He lamented on how poor of a liar he was.

Estel slowed his mare down. "But you don't look alright," he noted. He knew that the blonde elf could be just as wild, reckless, and carefree as the twins, but occasionally could also reach long points of silence and dejection.

Just as Elrohir also stopped his horse and began to say something as well, he froze. "Valar…" he whispered. "Look at the sky."

The horizon that was a bright blue just minutes earlier was now growing ominously darker as the clouds covered the sun. A raindrop fell.

"A storm is coming." Legolas said softly, his voice eerily even and bleak.

The first raindrop was followed by many more, and Estel scrambled to flip up his cloak hood as they were quickly soaked.

"That is really odd." Elrohir commented, narrowing his eyes. "The weather does not just _change _like that."

Elladan was staring silently into the distance, his face grim.

"There are orcs coming." He announced softly. "Less than a quarter hour away."

There was a soft gasp, barely audible, from Estel. His face betrayed many emotions; a flicker of fear, but also a spark of desire for battle, for the thrill of fighting and the chance for revenge. Though he was nervous, his hand lightly touched the hilt of his sword. He had practiced almost daily for many years with his brothers and some of Rivendell's most skilled soldiers. He was ready.

Legolas was motionless. Was this what he had been dreading? Had he been foreseeing the orc attack?

But how could a few orcs be detrimental?

The twins didn't seem very worried, they were confident in their skills. They simultaneously picked up their bows.

"Estel," Elladan said sternly, turning to face his brother. "You and Legolas, head back north to where we camped last. Wait there, and if we are not back by nightfall, head home-"

Legolas was jerked out of his stupor. "What?" he cried.

"I'm not running away!" Estel protested.

"I doubt that there are more than a dozen of them," Elrohir told them. "Just a rogue group from the mountains, leaving their territory because of the weather's darkness. Elladan and I can take care of them ourselves, and then we will get back to you."

"Estel, we know that you are very good fighter, but there's no need to risk getting hurt when it's not absolutely necessary. And Legolas, we are not sending him back home all by himself during a storm." Elladan finished.

"I can fight just as well as you two can!" The human boy said desperately, unsheathing his sword. "I have been practicing, I can do it!"

"I agree that Estel should not fight," Legolas told his friends. "But I will not leave you to fight the monsters by yourself!"

"Monsters?" Elrohir laughed. "True, mellon nin, they_ are_ horrible beasts, but you make them sound so extremely dangerous. My brother and I are fully capable of handling them, I am sure. They are nothing but small, dense creatures."

Legolas could tell that the only way Estel would be kept from fighting was if he accompanied him back to their campsite. And he was not going to risk the child getting hurt again by the orcs.

"Come, Estel." He said finally, motioning for the boy and turning his horse around.

The mortal's eyes grew wide and he shook his head. But after glancing at his brothers demanding expressions, he sighed in defeat. There was no way he was going to convince the elves to let him fight. Grumbling in terrible annoyance, he put his blade away. "Fine." He hissed.

"We will see you soon." The twins said as the pair began to leave.

Lightning suddenly illuminated the dark sky, showing a diminutive group of orcs in the distance.

And the two friends rode off, never looking back.

Elladan and Elrohir notched their bows, staring through the pouring rain at the targets.

* * *

After a short time, a horribly loud crack of thunder reverberated through the air and Legolas' horse balked, planting its feet firm and snorting loudly as Estel's ran even faster. 

"Estel!" Legolas screamed as he saw where the horse was running. He slid off of his stubborn mount and sprinted forward. "Estel, no!"

Estel's eyes widened in horror as the ground suddenly disappeared in front of him.

The canyon.

He pulled sharply on Hyalma's mane and she slid to a halt on the edge, the ground crumbling under her weight. As the earth cracked, she shrieked, rearing up onto her hind legs. The boy's hands slipped uselessly on her drenched fur as he tumbled off her back to the ground, almost directly under her flailing hooves.

"Estel!!" Legolas cried in panic. He was still many yards from the child, it would be too late…

Blindly scrambling away from the horse's legs, Estel shrank backwards. The ground crunched sickeningly and he screamed as it crumbled and he plummeted downward.

Legolas threw himself for the edge, grabbing one of Estel's hands and almost being pulled over by his momentum. Before he could say or do anything, the ground cracked again. He heard Hyalma come back down on four legs next to him and turn around, running. The mud broke apart.

The prince felt himself falling and heard Estel cry out next to him. Mud and debris clouded his vision and rocks painfully pelted him, but he held tightly to his friend's hand.

He suddenly came to a painful halt. His free arm had managed to grab an outcropped rock. But with the force of the fall and the pelting rain, Estel slipped from his grasp.

"ESTEL!" Legolas screamed in horror. He would never forget watching the young human slam on his back into the ground.

His heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst, his mind hysterical, the prince scrambled to fully grab hold of the stone and climb down hastily. He didn't know where the twins were, he didn't know what had happened with the orcs, but he didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was Estel. It seemed impossible that anyone would be able to survive a fall like that.

_No, Estel! Oh Valar, this can _not_ be happening! Everything was going so well! Oh, please…_

It felt like hours until he was ten feet from the ground, where he simply let go and dropped lightly to his feet.

He immediately raced forward, the image of the child falling imprinted in his head.

The motionless body lay in front of him on the hard ground, puddles of rainwater scattered around the otherwise empty riverbank.

"Estel? Estel?!" he cried, kneeling beside the mortal.

Estel's eyes were tightly closed, his limbs spread out awkwardly. His face seemed only slightly pained.

It should have hurt more, Legolas thought fearfully to himself, he shouldn't look like he's merely asleep.

Trembling with panic, the prince lifted the limp hand and felt the wrist for a pulse.

Nothing.

"No…" Legolas choked, shaking his head fervently, "No."

_Oh Valar no, this isn't happening!_

He lowered his head and listened desperately for breath.

Nothing.

"Estel…" he whispered tearfully, shaking his shoulders. "Estel, come on. No…"

Tears rolling freely down his fast, disbelief surging through him, Legolas lifted his friend into his arms and turned him over.

When he saw the back of Estel's head, where it had hit the ground at a fall of over a hundred feet, Legolas let out a loud sob. Grief overwhelmed him and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas awoke to the sound of falling water, somewhere outside. Before he could think of anything else, a horrible image entered his mind.

Estel, falling off the cliff.

"No…" he groaned.

He didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to face Elladan, Elrohir, or Elrond. He didn't want to face anyone. He didn't want to face what he had done.

He had let Estel fall.

He blinked tiredly and took a deep breath, looking around as he sat up and stretched his exhausted limbs. Dim morning light filtered in through the curtains and he saw that he was in his usual guest room in Rivendell. Standing up, he wrapped a nearby robe around the nightclothes he was wearing.

The room was completely empty.

Where was everyone? He felt his throat tighten and his heartbeat quicken.

_Everyone really does hate me!_

_And why wouldn't they? I killed_ _Estel!_

Filled with despair, he walked into the hallway and saw Elrond near the end, turning a corner.

"Lord Elrond," he called softly. "My lord…"

The Imladris lord turned, his expression somewhat frightening the prince. Legolas suddenly felt very small and young, like an outcast in a foreign place. Clutching the robe tighter around him, he timidly looked at the ground. "I am sorry to bother you, Lord Elrond," he whispered as the elder elf walked up to him. "But, but I just woke up and, I do not know what day it is or what happened, what happened after…"

He looked up hesitantly.

"Legolas, it has been two weeks," the younger elf felt his insides twist at the sound of Elrond's voice and found it nearly impossible to keep eye contact. "We are not sure why, it seems to have been grief, but you have not awoken since," Legolas saw extreme sadness in his eyes. "Legolas, it was not your fault. Please understand, no one holds you responsible."

The blonde elf stepped back and weakly shook his head. Hoping desperately not to hear the next words.

"Estel is dead."

* * *

Legolas was extremely disoriented when he suddenly found himself lying down again, surrounded in darkness. But before he could think about what had happened, his mind was wiped clear. He couldn't think of anything. 

Anything except for the pain.

He gasped, choking back a scream. His eyelids squeezed shut as the most severe pain he'd ever felt shot up his back. It felt like he was lying on a bed of fire. He shifted involuntarily and the burning increased tenfold. It took him many minutes to focus on anything but the shock and agony.

He was horribly confused when he began to recall where he was, blinking back tears. Why did it hurt so badly now, when the last time he had awoken he had been fine?

"Legolas?" he heard a surprised voice beckon. "Legolas, are you awake?" He felt a hand brush across his forehead but his vision was dull and cloudy. He couldn't see anything but grey haze and a faint, foggy outline of a room. He took a deep breath, shaking.

"Y-yes," he managed, his voice barely audible, sounding like a hurt child's. He tried not to whimper as the pain shot through every inch of his body. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it didn't matter. He just wanted it to stop. His stomach took a violent churn and he felt nauseous. He found himself aching desperately for his father.

"W-what happened?" he whispered. He blinked several times and finally just closed them as his sight continued to spin, making him even more dizzy and miserable.

"Just stay still," the voice warned gently. "You were badly hurt, Legolas."

"N-no," the prince protested, clenching his jaw in determination not to let his voice falter any more. "I woke up, I woke up before. And, and I was fine…" he inhaled shakily and opened his eyes ever so slightly. "What happened after that? I was fine…"

He found himself staring up at Lord Elrond, whose face was concerned. "No, young prince," he assured. "This is the first time you have awoken since the… accident."

Legolas swallowed tiredly and lay still, trying to not think about the searing flashes of pain that kept shooting up his back. "But I remember waking up," he pleaded.

Elrond shook his head. "It was just a hallucination, Legolas. You are very hurt, you will have vivid dreams."

_But it felt far too real to be a hallucination_, Legolas thought, baffled. _Maybe _this _is the dream, since I don't remember getting hurt. But Valar, dreams don't hurt like this!_

"Legolas, can you feel this?" the elven lord asked softly.

Legolas waited, and suddenly felt one of his legs being touched. A cry of surprise and horrible pain escaped him and he felt himself grow hot with humiliation as he panted roughly. He couldn't stand feeling so weak and helpless.

Elrond sighed, but the prince couldn't tell what emotion it contained. He had shut his eyes again and had a death-grip on the sheets.

"I need to move your limbs more, Legolas, I'm sorry. It is going to hurt but it cannot be avoided."

"I'm ready," the younger elf hissed between clenched teeth. His body shook for many minutes as he was surrounded with pain and a veil of darkness. When he realized that it had stopped, he opened his eyes, sweating and trembling.

"What happened to me?" he whispered.

"I need to know what_ you_ remember."

Legolas nodded. "I remember riding, and camping. I remember the sky darkening, a storm, and orcs coming… Estel and I left, it was raining, and we came to a cliff…" He cringed and felt his eyes well up with tears. He couldn't continue. He wished he could roll over and avoid the eyes of the Imladris lord. As quietly as possible, he managed, "Estel…he fell."

He noticed a worried expression form on Elrond's face. "Legolas," he said slowly. "That is not what happened. Estel did not fall, you did."

* * *

Legolas opened his eyes, breathing quickly as he looked around. He was outside of his room, not at all hurt. 

"What happened?" he gasped, panicky.

"Calm down, Legolas," Elrond scolded, kneeling next to him. "You have just collapsed."

Legolas felt both anguish and utter irritation flood through him. "I just saw something," he tried to explain, his voice shaky. "I, I don't know… A dream, I guess, but you were there, and you told me it wasn't a dream. That this, this right now, is a dream, and that I'm actually very hurt and having hallucinations. And that Estel isn't dead, and-"

He stopped breathlessly, seeing in the lord's expression that his words sounded like babble.

"Legolas, it was a dream. I promise you, it was nothing more than a dream."

Indignation struck the prince painfully. "What if it was more?" he whispered.

Elrond looked tired. "You need more rest, Legolas," he said softly, helping the Mirkwood prince to his feet. "Come."

"Where are Elladan and Elrohir?" Legolas asked as they walked into his room.

"I honestly do not know," Elrond responded, looking troubled. "They have been so distant these days…"

"I need to go talk to them." He fled the room, his heart racing and confusion clouding his mind. As he walked quickly outside, a cold rush of wind whipped brutally around him. But it was ignored by the bewildered young elf.

* * *

"This doesn't make any sense," He choked out, running a hand hurriedly though his hair. "I don't understand!" 

A second later, the pain flooded through him. He swore loudly, almost screaming with aggravation.

"What is happening to me?" he hollered, unbearable stabs of pain hitting his back with every word.

"Calm down, Legolas," Elrond urged gently, telling the prince what he had to do to ease the pain. He explained further what the injury was, mentioning fractured vertebrae, compromising spinal stability, and the impinging of nerves running from the spinal cord. The younger elf was barely listening.

_In minutes, everything will change again, _he reminded himself. _What's the use in paying attention when I'll just be pulled into some other world? Oh Valar, what's happening to me? _

"Elrond," he asked suddenly. "If Estel didn't fall, where is he?"

Elrond stopped his instructions and sighed sadly. "When Elladan and Elrohir finished fighting they found you, but Estel was nowhere around. Elladan brought you here and Elrohir kept looking, even after a search party reached the canyon. They have been looking for him ever since. They found his horse, but no trace of him." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "We are all very worried."

Legolas tried a half-hearted smile. "Estel is strong," he said encouragingly. "He'll be alright." His back hurt so badly, though, it was difficult to sound at all convincing.

But then, contradicting his suspicion, everything didn't change within minutes.

Several days passed.

Several extremely painful days passed without any other dreams, leading Legolas to believe that the visions where Estel was dead were just what Elrond had said they were: hallucinations.

Finally, sitting up against some pillows, he told Elrond, "I'd like to go out, my lord. I'd like to get up and start walking again."

The elven lord did not seem surprised. In fact, he smiled slightly, pleased that Legolas had the spirit to leave the room. The prince had healed considerably, but had seemed very silent and distressed during his recovery.

Outside, Legolas sat on a stone bench, stretching his legs out slowly. His back throbbed gallingly, and he shifted often.

Looking around at the nearby woods, he pondered over whether to wander through the trees and gain comfort from their presence, or to find his friends. Gazing longingly at the forest, he chose the latter.

It wasn't long before he spied Elrohir by the stables, brushing his mount's tail less than gently. The animal's ears were flat against its head and the whites of its eyes were showing.

"'Ro, that poor horse won't have any hair by this evening if you keep up like that,"

The elf turned, and the frustrated expression on his young face softened slightly. "Legolas," he smiled, but his grey eyes were pained. "It's good to see you up. I visited a few times, but I've been out a lot, looking…"

Legolas could see how distraught he was, and understood. The twins were very attached to their little brother.

"Where is Elladan?"

Legolas couldn't figure out Elrohir's reaction to his question, it almost looked like abhorrence.

"I don't know," the younger twin practically snapped. He turned back to his horse and began brushing it again, much to the animal's annoyance.

* * *

Legolas wasn't even thankful for the lack of pain in his back. He slammed his fist into the ground. 

He was almost hysterical with frustration. He couldn't stand much more.

"I don't understand what's happening to me!" he hissed, adrenaline pounding through his body. "Valar, make it stop. _Please_…"

He looked up to see where he was and frowned. He was outside, and could see one of the twins in the distance. He wasn't brushing his horse, but leaning against one of the rails of the fence. It was the first thing even remotely similar between his two 'dreams'.

Slowly, Legolas made his way over to him.

"Hello, Elrohir," he greeted softly.

Elrohir looked up at him, and the Mirkwood prince did not miss the anger in his face as he forced out in a barely friendly tone, "Legolas…"

Legolas felt the grey eyes piercing him. "How are you?" he managed.

"I'm…" the dark-haired elf hesitated, "…fine."

The prince felt sick. "Elrohir, I am so sorry," he whispered.

Elrohir shook his head. "It is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done."

Legolas wasn't sure if this was real or not. Frankly, he hoped it wasn't. He could feel the fear rising up in him over whether he would _ever _know. Changing the subject, he inquired "Where is Elladan?"

"I don't know."

Legolas arched an eyebrow in surprise. Either it was just a coincidence, or his two worlds were starting to blend together.

Elrohir continued, his voice distant and sad. "He took what happened to Estel very hard… I did too, of course," he swallowed thickly. "You know that he always feels like he has to watch out for everyone else, and he felt responsible for this. He doesn't say much…but I know he's hurting," as if he couldn't stand to talk about it any further, he turned and left.

Eventually, the prince walked back to his room.

* * *

"Legolas? Legolas, what's the matter?" 

Elrohir was kneeling next to him, hand on his shoulder.

Legolas shook his head, feeling dizzy. Moving a little, his back protested violently.

"You passed out, just fell to the ground all of a sudden," he looked truly concerned. "You had better get back inside, Legolas, Ada needs to tend to you. You probably shouldn't have been out of bed yet."

"That's not it!" Legolas snapped, but couldn't figure out how to explain himself and felt instantly guilty. He needed to get to his room. He needed to think about things. "Sorry, you're right… I'll be inside." He stood up carefully.

He added, "The search…you haven't found tracks or _anything_?"

The younger twin shook his head desolately. "Nothing," He whispered. "The rain has washed away any. His horse came back a week ago, along with all of his things. If he is alone somewhere, he has no food or weapons. We can only hope that he found a safe village or group of rangers, and that he is not alone or in otherwise unfavorable company..."

Legolas gave a half-hearted smile. "He is smart, Elrohir, and strong," he assured. "I'm sure he will be fine."

Elrohir didn't even try to return the smile. He looked miserable.

"'Ro," Legolas asked. "Is there something else wrong?"

The Peredhil's brow furrowed. "Something _besides_ Estel being lost?"

"Well, it just seems like there might be something else on your mind…"

Elrohir paused, looking at the ground for several seconds. "This has been very hard on Elladan as well…" he finally said.

Legolas narrowed his eyes. Without anything else to say, he turned to go back inside.

In his room, he sprawled out on his bed. If he lay on his back with a pillow under his knees, it hurt slightly less. The pain it caused him, however, still made it hard to think straight.

He certainly knew which one he wanted to be true. Even though he was hurting horribly, Legolas greatly preferred the prospect that Estel was missing rather than dead.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

* * *

"I can't do this… This is insane, I'm going mad." 

He rolled over without any pain in his back. He threw one of the pillows into his nightstand and a candle clattered to the floor.

Legolas picked up the candle, then swore and hurled it against the wall.

He tried for a moment, but couldn't even count how many times he'd switched dreams.

"I can't live like this," he whispered, kneeling on the floor and digging the palms of his hands against his face.

"It is not hard to fix, Prince Legolas,"

He stood up quickly, staring suspiciously at the stranger in the doorway. Why hadn't he heard him come in?

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The elf bowed slightly with a gentle smile. "I am Nuialossë, and I know what you are going through. I can help."

Legolas didn't know why, but he felt an instant trusting feeling spread through him.

Nuialossë was dark-haired and didn't look any older than the prince. "I am a healer here," he explained. "And I have seen this before. Grief can be very detrimental to an elf, especially in this situation. You have created a realistic world in your subconscious, one where your friend did not die, where you don't have to feel any guilt. You are unable to leave it."

Legolas didn't like the sound of the so-called-healer's diagnoses. He didn't want to think that what he was currently in was reality.

"How do I stop it?" he asked rhetorically. "What could I do so that I stay in this world?"

Nuialossë smiled calmly. "Simple. You are drawn back to that world because it is perfect to you. It is believable, and for the most part has what you want – the promise of Estel being all right. All you have to do is make that world imperfect, make it such a miserable place that your mind no longer wants to retreat there."

Legolas had to agree that it made sense. "What do I do?"

"Well, what would make you _very _upset?"

Without thinking, the prince answered truthfully, "If one of my friends were hurt, I suppose."

The healer nodded knowingly. "You would not want to return to a place where your friends were dead, would you?"

Legolas' eyes widened in horror. "What!" he gasped. "I'm not going to _kill _anyone! I won't murder my friends!"

Nuialossë laughed lightly. "Prince Legolas, they are not real. They are figments of your imagination. You will be helping your real friends if you do this. No longer will Elladan and Elrohir have to worry about your blackouts. You will be doing a great service to everyone, especially yourself. You do not deserve to go through this, my prince."

Legolas shook his head. "How can you prove that this is real? How can you prove that _this_ isn't all in my head, just a dream?"

Nuialossë came closer until his face was only a foot from Legolas'. He placed his hand on the blonde elf's shoulder.

Legolas would have normally shoved him away, so he couldn't figure out why he felt calmed. As if he was an elfling, and his father was soothing him. He had an irrefutable urge to believe Nuialossë.

"Trust me, Legolas. I will keep you safe. I know your reservation. The one thing that is keeping you from going through with this. It is Estel, is it not? You want to cling onto the chance that he is still alive."

"Is that wrong? That I just want an innocent child to be alright?"

"Of course it is not wrong, Legolas, it is completely expected. I am sorry, but you have to remember that Estel is dead. Whether you return to your dreamworld or not, he will still be dead. He is gone, and you cannot bring him back."

Legolas pulled away weakly. "I don't want to believe that. I want to go on thinking that he's all right…"

"But it will not be the truth. Legolas, save yourself from all of this. Help your friends."

"You want me to kill my friends!"

"They're not real. They are just in your head."

"I can't do that to them… Even if they're not real, I couldn't do that."

"It will be all right, my prince. End it quickly, efficiently."

Legolas flinched and felt his stomach turn to ice. He didn't want to, he couldn't…

"Make it fast. Both of the Peredhil twins, and if necessary, Elrond as well. Then, I promise, you will never return to that fake reality."

Numbly, almost involuntarily obedient, Legolas nodded and closed his eyes.

"Lay down, prince Legolas. Close your eyes, go back to that dream. Make it the last time you ever go there."

As he fell asleep, Legolas still couldn't figure out why he was listening to Nuialossë. Why he believed every word he said…

* * *

He tested his strength, lifting his white daggers from their sheathes at the foot of his bed, slowly twirling them. 

Yes, they would do.

_Fast. Efficient. You'll be helping everyone by doing this. Helping everyone. Make it right._

He sighed slowly.

_Don't think about them as your friends. They are not real, they are only in your mind. Erase them._

He heard a knocking on his door. "Legolas, may I enter?"

Though the twins' voices were exactly the same, many centuries had taught Legolas how to tell the difference in the tones they used.

He slid his blade into the folds of his robe.

"Come in, Elrohir."


	3. Chapter 3

_You reviewers are all so amazing, I would never have written here if it weren't for you. But I have to especially credit the anonymous reviewer Tzz for getting me to finally post again. I had gotten too busy to write any fanfiction for the longest time, and hadn't read Lord of the Rings fics at all since I started watching Supernatural. But I was checking my inbox today, found just about the sweetest review an author could hope for, and decided that I was being incredibly rude to leave you guys hanging. Thank you so much, Tzz. I cannot apologize enough to everyone. If anyone is still reading this, I am so sorry for the 'hiatus' and I hope with all my heart that this chapter does not disappoint. I'm still getting reacquainted with Lord of the Rings fanfiction and using fanfiction to post and everything, but I'm going to try that respond-to-reviewers-via-email thing. Thank you so much. I'm back._

* * *

"'Dan, please… You have hardly eaten anything these past weeks, hardly slept either. Brother, you cannot blame yourself for what happened. You are not doing anyone any good by hurting yourself like this!" 

Elrohir ground his knuckles into the wall as he stared at the dark hair that shielded his sibling's face from him. He let out a loud sigh and nearly growled.

"Elladan, will you _please_ just look at me?"

"I should have done something different," the older twin whispered, his tone sharp with anger. "I should have let him stay with us like he wanted. There were not very many orcs, he would have been alright. I let this happen."

Patience wearing thin, Elrohir seized his brother's shoulder and pulled it roughly so that they were face-to-face. He then grabbed Elladan's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "Will you at least pretend that you are talking to _me_, not just berating yourself?"

Elladan slapped his twin's hand away from his face and shrugged the other off his shoulder. "You know as well as I that this could have been prevented. We could have saved him."

"Yes, I know that, which makes it just as much my fault! I could have let him stay, too…" Elrohir felt guilt churn inside him, rising painfully up his esophagus. "And will you quit acting like he's dead? You know better than to just give up like that-"

"Elrohir, don't you dare lecture _me_ on giving up! I have gone out looking for him more than you have!"

The younger twin took a step back, stung, then sighed despondently and shook his head. "So you are mad at me as well? I thought you might be. You are mad at the entire world and focusing it all in at yourself because you do not know who else to blame. But Elladan, hating yourself will not bring him back. You need to keep hope, brother, and the only way we are going to get through this is if we are there for each other…" His gaze fell to the floor and he shifted uncomfortably. "… Do you think this is not also hard on me?"

Elladan just turned away, tense with suppressed emotion that would have been unreadable to anyone but his twin.

Elrohir, looking up and seeing his brother leaving, rapped his hand against the bedroom wall until he was practically punching it. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault." He punctuated each word with a strike to the wood. "I am here for you, 'Dan. I want to help, but I cannot unless you let me in."

When he didn't receive an answer, Elrohir's stomach roiled with exasperation and a stabbing sense of rejection. "Alright. I am going to visit Legolas. Maybe _he_ will speak with me."

Elladan whirled around. "_What?_"

Elrohir hesitated, unsure of what to make of his brother's sudden concern. "…He is having as hard of a time as any of us, he needs someone to talk to."

His twin shook his head with more certainty than he had shown in weeks. "No."

"Pardon? Are you telling me what to do, Elladan?" Elrohir's grey eyes widened incredulously. "Moreover, are you telling me not to go see Legolas? What has-"

"He cannot be trusted-"

"Are we even talking about the same person? This is _Legolas! _We have known him almost our whole life!"

Elladan was staring at his twin with resolute determination, filled with anxiety he couldn't explain. "He is not who he used to be, Elrohir. Have you seen the way he acts? He, he is not stable!" His voice was as desperate and pleading as his brother's had been only minutes before.

Elrohir stepped away furiously. "So now you suddenly care about what I do? You have ignored me for weeks and now you are mothering me? You weren't there when I needed it because you were too busy pathetically blaming yourself, and now you try to tell me what to do? You think I need you _now?_"

"I am your brother!" Elladan tried to illustrate his worry, but Elrohir thought that it sounded like an order. "I am not going to let you around someone who is not mentally sound!"

"Well, you could come with me, but that would ruin your little isolation binge, wouldn't it? And don't give me the older sibling speech! _Valar_, Elladan, can't you ever understand? We are twins. A couple frivolous minutes do not mean a thing. Even if you were years older, that would not immediately make you any stronger or smarter than me, or give you any right to hover over me all the time, acting like I need your constant protection! I can take care of myself!"

The older twin was appalled by his sibling's naivety. "You are acting so thick, is seems that you need someone to watch you and make sure you do not do something stupid!"

"I know what I am doing, I do not need you, Elladan!" Elrohir slammed the door behind him as he left, briskly making his way down the hall.

* * *

Legolas invited Elrohir in welcomingly and the Peredhil smiled warmly at his friend as he stepped in the guest room. He did not doubt the prince's loyalty, but Elladan's words were echoing in his ears. 

"How are you, Legolas?" he asked kindly, trying to forget the argument with his brother. "How is your back?"

"It is fine, thank you," the blonde elf answered hurriedly, shutting the door behind them.

"Is something wrong?" Elrohir questioned, concerned, noting how Legolas wouldn't look him in the eye. The prince's hands were fidgeting anxiously against the closest bedpost.

"Uh, no, it is nothing." He abruptly looked up, locking the younger twin's gaze. Then he smiled in amusement, his eyes unnervingly distant. "A bad dream, I suppose."

'_He is not who he used to be, Elrohir. Have you seen the way he acts?'_

Elrohir forced a smile back, suddenly feeling uneasy.

* * *

Legolas knew that he had to act before he changed his mind, before he could really consider what he was doing. At the moment, he was too consumed with unquestioning surety that he was doing the right thing. It was like an adrenaline rush, his heart slamming against his chest. Inwardly repeating the mantra of '_It has to be done… Quickly… Efficiently… Now…'_, he tightened his fingers around the blade. 

In one fluid motion he grabbed Elrohir's arm, slammed the unsuspecting elf into the wall, and heard the sound of the knife entering. He began to twist it, just to be sure.

The utter confusion in Elrohir's huge eyes stopped him, the eyes Legolas was so used to seeing full of playfulness or empathy. He paused, frozen by the way his friend's young face was fixed with shock. The way his mouth opened to say something but nothing but a soft sound of pain came out. His pupils expanded almost enough to hide the color of the iris.

It felt too real.

He pulled the dagger out in sudden revulsion. The hand that he had used to pin Elrohir against the wall felt the younger twin shiver fiercely. Then he felt only empty space, and there was a quiet thud.

Legolas looked at his hands, blinking in disbelief.

Blood.

This wasn't what Nuialossё had promised him.

He let the weapon fall to the floor, clattering next to Elrohir's prone form.

Blinking as if just waking up, yanked out his stupor, he felt like he'd just been sleepwalking or gotten over some fever-induced delirium.

Then there were footsteps. Each stride unsteady, Legolas darted towards the window and jumped to the ground.

* * *

"Elrohir," Elladan snapped as he pounded on the door. "Will you quit being such a fool? I was _trying_ to talk to you, isn't that what you wanted?" 

No answer. He frowned in annoyance. "Elrohir? I know you are angry, Elrohir, but at least open the door. I am doing what you said, I will visit him if it means that much to you… Elrohir? Legolas?"

He opened the door slowly, not seeing anyone at his eye level. "Elrohir, stop acting like such a-"

His gaze fell upon the blood stained wall, then shot down to the floor.

"'_Ro!_"

* * *

Legolas ran as far as he could into the woods before crumpling to the ground next to an old tree, pressing his forehead against the bark. 

His breaths shuddered as he panted in horror. Pulling his knees against his body, he shook his head vehemently. "Bring me back, bring me back, bring me back," he begged tearfully.

Mildly surprised that it had actually worked, he opened his eyes and found himself sitting on the floor inside his usual room in the House of Elrond.

He looked up at Nuialossё, struggling to his feet so that they were at the same level.

"You are a liar." Legolas hissed.

The dark haired elf raised his eyes with a slight smirk. "Is that so?"

Legolas didn't know if he had ever been so distressed in his life, so unsure of what was happening or what would happen next. "You said that _this_ was real, that my 'dream' where Estel was alive was nothing but an illusion. You told me that to end that illusion, I should make that dreamworld undesirable."

"And you believed me."

Legolas looked around suddenly. The room was all wrong, things were just off. It didn't seem… real.

"If that was the dreamworld," he accused, he voice laced with odium, "And you wanted me to detach myself from it, there would have been faster ways than killing my friends. Killing Elladan and Elrohir, then slowly succumbing to grief, how long might that take? If you truly were looking into my best interest, you should have just had me kill _myself_ in that world. You cannot return to a world where you are dead, can you?" He hated how shaky his voice was.

Nuialossё's smile widened. "Finally figuring some things out, my prince? Noticing that there are so many flaws here, so many things that you just had not seen…"

Legolas felt his entire body quaking with fury and anguish. _"This_ is the damn dream, _this _is fake! Estel is not dead!" He saw the certainty in the eyes of the elf in front of him and felt dizzy with the weight of revelation. "I was the one who fell! I hit my head, I-"

"All true, I am so proud. You grabbed Estel's arm, pulled him up, and began to climb down with him. You assumed that going back up would be harder and more unsafe. But then, _slip,_" he snapped his fingers. "Less than twenty feet to go, and you fell. Tsk, tsk, my graceful elf."

"I do not understand!" Legolas was screaming now. "Why did this dream happen? Why did _you _happen in my head?"

"You hit it very hard, very hard…" Nuialossё made a motion towards his own head, miming colliding with a heavy object. "It just made your mind do some different things. Your mind made me."

"You made me attack Elrohir!"

"No," Nuialossё's eyes suddenly darkened and he stepped forward slowly.

Legolas blinked in confusion. He could have sworn that the healer had dark hair, but now it was blonde. In fact, he looked remarkably like the prince himself.

Nuialossё laughed, and Legolas swallowed weakly, blinking in shock. "_You _stabbed Elrohir, out of your own volition. You felt his blood on your hands." It was his own voice, heartless and cold. "You created me in your head, Legolas, the question you should ask yourself is 'why?'. What kind of person creates people like me in their imagination? What kind of person _murders_ one of their best friends?"

"I did not murder him, he is not dead!" Legolas hollered as loud as he could, but it came out so softly. "And it was not my fault, I did not try to create you! I would _never_ want to hurt Elrohir! I thought it was not real-"

"But somewhere in your mind, you did want to. Your subconscious-"

"NO! I did not have any control over it, this happened because I hit my head-"

"This happened because of you and only you." Legolas was now staring at a mirror image as it spoke. "You are the one who stabbed him. This is entirely your fault."

Legolas finally bowed his head, shaking it confidently. "This is a dream," he snarled. "And I know how to wake up now."

Without hesitation, he grabbed a knife off the bed, knowing that it was there because he wanted it to be. For once, something in his dreams actually worked the way it was supposed to. He plunged the blade into his skull.

* * *

Estel woke up slowly, blinking blearily, but his eyes refused to stay open. He could feel a few tiny patches of sun peeking through the rocks, falling upon his face, but it wasn't enough. He was still so cold, and lonely, and would have almost been able to tolerate how sick he felt if there had been a little more sun. 

He couldn't remember how long it had been. His mind was too muddled to count how many times he'd seen his grave-like surroundings darken with the sunrise, then lighten slightly with the dawn.

Shifting weakly, his stomach twisted with unbearable huger. His thirst was so intense, he could barely swallow. He had emptied his waterskin a few days ago after trying so hard to ration it. He thought longingly of the food he had strapped to Hyalma. Vaguely, he wondered if she was alright.

At first, he had spent all of his time trying to escape. He had desperately dug at the rocks until his fingers were raw. He screamed for anyone nearby who might hear him.

Over the seemingly endless days, however, it had become harder and harder to stay focused. He started to become less lucid, wondering wildly how he got there, why he hurt so much. He couldn't remember what had happened, he could hardly even remember his own name in those periods of unbridled panic.

If he wasn't sleeping, plagued by nightmares, he would just lay there pining deliriously for food or water. Or for someone to talk to. He had never missed his father and brothers so badly. He was sure that they had gone searching for him, but he wondered if maybe they'd stopped by now. It felt like _such_ a long time.

Then he remembered what had happened to Legolas, and began breathing faster, terrified. If the prince had died, maybe Elladan and Elrohir were so angry with their little brother that they refused to even look for him.

He laid his head against the cold ground again, hugging his arms against his freezing body. He shifted his right leg a little, idly trying to dig a hole with his foot. He wanted to let in some fresh air and have a better view if anyone walked by.

But he already knew that it was useless.

Even if he moved the rocks to his right, he still wouldn't be able to see much of the dried up riverbank outside. Most of his view would still be obscured by the huge boulder to his left, the one trapping him there.

The boulder that was crushing his left leg.


End file.
